


Best Laid Plans and Unfortunate Puns

by fabfemmeboy



Series: Sincere Baked Goods [15]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabfemmeboy/pseuds/fabfemmeboy
Summary: Adventures in so-called "three-way dating." Well, more like one 'adventure', if by 'adventure' you were to mean "horribly ill-advised evening of sex with the help of pilfered booze and an overly-enthusiastic middle."





	Best Laid Plans and Unfortunate Puns

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone part by design. If you really don't want to read the uberslash, you can skip it and just read the next part of the next story.

In retrospect, Kurt only had one thing to say:  
  
Porn lied.  
  
He had gotten to it lying about certain things - relative size, for example, and the actual refractory period for something that large on someone that age. He'd found that different porn mediums lied about different things; videos tended to gloss over the part where the cum started cooling and getting sticky and the many ways that getting into or out of a position could go badly, while stories perpetuated myths like being able to scissor one's fingers in a person's ass. But if porn lied about sex between two people, it  _really_  lied about sex where three people were involved.  
  
It had just all sounded so much hotter in his head.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"There's something I don't get," Puck stated from the back seat of the Navigator.  
  
"Yes?" Kurt replied, shifting awkwardly as he glanced in his rearview mirror.  
  
"Why are we driving a couple hours each way to have sex when there are three perfectly good beds, a couple couches, and a pool table at home?"  
  
"We won't fit," Blaine replied simply.  
  
"Exactly," Kurt confirmed. "Blaine's bed is a queen-sized, yours is a twin and mine is a fold-out but still only makes a full. Unless you wanted to use Blaine's bed in the guest bedroom, but something tells me that having sex in the bed where your Nana will be sleeping when she gets back from Boca next month isn't exactly a turn-on."  
  
"At least, I really hope not," Blaine added.  
  
To call the atmosphere in the car 'tense' would be a gross understatement. Six days into the "threeway dating" arrangement and no real dating  _per se_  had occurred. A lot of awkward hanging out on the couch, always with Kurt sitting between the two other boys and trying to mediate a little bit while they fought over movie choices - just like they always had. One particularly productive day, he'd done his homework on the couch while Blaine and Puck tried to kick the crap out of each other in some video game that Kurt tried to ignore.   
  
Tonight had been the closest to dating yet: Going to see some romantic comedy from four years ago at the dollar theater across town, which got awkward as first Puck, then Blaine, thought that the proper way to spend the movie was by making out with Kurt. Not that Kurt would have complained in the least, it was just that they couldn't manage to do it without fighting over who got him when. He wasn't sure why it got exponentially harder when they were all in the same room; it was supposed to be the opposite. It was supposed to be that, once they were no longer divided there wouldn't be any more of the paranoia that had previously plagued the triad. After all, if a large part of Puck's problem - as stated, at least - was thinking about what Kurt was doing with Blaine when they were alone, and Blaine didn't like thinking about Kurt and Puck doing things on their own either, then shouldn't it stand to reason that they would do better together?  
  
They just needed to bond better, Kurt concluded. Be comfortable with each other as a threesome instead of as two couples. There was no reason they couldn't all enjoy making out in the theater without fights breaking out with a few ground rules and some general courtesy and consideration.  
  
He had suggested continuing the making out - not the fighting so much - 'in a less formal setting,' which led to them piling back into the SUV and starting towards New Albany.  
  
By the time they got to Blaine's, the tension in the car was almost palpable. They weren't sniping at each other, that had been Wednesday night's thing; instead, it was a kind of nervous disbelief, as though none of them actually believed that there would be sex when they got to the aforementioned large bed.  
  
Then Puck brought out the booze.  
  
"Where'd you get that?" Blaine asked, eyes narrowing as he looked across the back seat at Puck and the bottle of Jack he was proudly clutching.  
  
"And are you trying to get us all arrested and my license taken away?" Kurt asked, definitely not amused.   
  
"C'mon-"  
  
"My dad finding out I've had alcohol while in the safety of Blaine's house when no one's driving for awhile is one thing. My dad finding out there was an open container in the car during an unplanned ninety-minute road trip? Would you  _like_  to ever see me again?" Puck grumbled something unintelligible. "Just put it away until we get there."  
  
Puck rolled his eyes and put the bottle between his feet, still closed. "No, seriously, where'd you get it? Or did you just happen to carry it with you on the off chance the movie sucked?" Blaine asked. "I figured we'd have to raid my parents' liquor cabinet."  
  
"Got it when we stopped for condoms and shit," Puck replied nonchalantly. When he saw Kurt's eyes narrow, he added, "I'm not going back to juvie, don't worry. I have a better fake ID now, it totally works for me." Kurt didn't respond, and he added, "If you're gonna be this uptight, there's no way a dick's gonna fit up your ass."  
  
The car dissolved into laughter that was part nervous and part incredulous. Puck sat back, satisfied with himself; clearly he'd done his job here.  
  
The bottle came back out as soon as Kurt parked the car. Usually Puck tried not to mix booze and sex too much, if only because he was always a little worried that one of these days he'd have malfunction problems and no way would he live that shit down. But this was kind of a special set of circumstances. But a little something to take the edge off...it had worked for him before. Worked for Kurt, too. And if the way Blaine thrust his hand out to wordlessly request the bottle was any indication, Puck suspected it had worked for Blaine in the past - or he was desperate.  
  
At least the dude was gay, what did he have to be that worried about? Unless he was intimidated by the sexual prowess of Puckzilla, but somehow he doubted his rep had preceded him quite that much; if Kurt talked about their sex life that much, Blaine would either be hurling, trying unsuccessfully to deck him, or breaking up with Kurt out of fear of inadequacy. Blaine took a long swig, bringing his jacket-clad forearm to his mouth as he swallowed. "Haven't had whiskey in awhile," he explained hoarsely. Wimp.  
  
Blaine unlocked the door and led the three of them upstairs; Puck took another swig as he took in the giant freaking hall. If Kurt were totally superficial, he'd be all over this place. And Kurt kinda was, but over different stuff - he thought, at least - so it probably wasn't another point in Blaine's column, but at this point he didn't even fucking know anymore.  
  
"Parents?" Kurt asked as he entered Blaine's room. Blaine shook his head. "Still in Vail?"  
  
"No - Washington," he replied. "Then Mom goes to Italy for god-only-knows-what and Dad comes back. Not like anyone would know the difference." He tossed the plastic bag containing the condoms and lube onto the nightstand and drew in a deep breath as he toed off his shoes and removed his jacket.  
  
They just kind of stared at each other. It wasn't the kind of situation where trying to undress each other was a good idea, but undressing while everyone stared wasn't much more comfortable.  
  
Kurt sighed. This was going nowhere fast. If no one ever made a move, they were likely to spend the next two hours staring at each other fully-clothed and standing in the general vicinity of a bed while getting progressively more and more drunk off Puck's illegally-begotten booze until they crashed for the night. That wasn't exactly what he envisioned for the evening.  
  
He was not a person who particularly enjoyed personal nudity, especially not with people staring; it made him uncomfortable, even if both guys in question had made pretty clear that they very much enjoyed what he saw. But if he didn't step up to lead this little brigade, then no one else would. So he drew in a deep breath, took a quick drink of whiskey - it burned, but not as much as April Rhoades' mystery-punch - and peeled off his clothes, layer by layer. It wasn't a sexy striptease by any stretch of the imagination, but it got the job done. As he stood there, naked and almost shivering in Blaine's bedroom because the head wasn't exactly on high blast now that the guy didn't even live here, he put on his best 'don't even try to contradict me' look and asked, "Next?"  
  
It worked. Even if Puck and Blaine did kind of keep eyeing each other suspiciously as they shucked off shirts and jeans, Kurt was glad Puck at least behaved and didn't turn into the jackass he easily could have. The nudity oddly made the atmosphere a little  _less_  tense, which wasn't entirely what Kurt had been expecting - it put everything out there on the table. No walls. No veils. Just...open.  
  
Not in the sense Kurt was looking forward to - not yet - but that would come.  
  
He needed to stop making bad puns in his head. Apparently his nervous reflex turned him into a 12-year-old Puck wannabe.   
  
The question became what precisely to do. After all, if neither Puck nor Blaine was really used to each other and predominantly wanted him - out of instinct and familiarity only, he was certain - then he had two options. He could either just be the one between them (not such a bad prospect) or he could try to do a little matchmaking. After all, that was the point of three-way dating as opposed to a V-triad, right?  
  
Right. Of course.   
  
He saw the way Blaine was eyeing Puck's dick - he knew that look. That look was his way in. After all, Blaine - being gay - had a distinct advantage in this because there was a better chance he would be at least physically attracted to Puck. And Puck  _was_  quite impressive to behold...and to suck.  
  
He stepped between the two of them and kissed Blaine, running his hands slowly down Blaine's torso. "He looks good, right?" he asked suggestively.  
  
Blaine looked trapped, like he wasn't sure if there was a wrong answer to it, but he offered, "Yeah" with a shy grin. It wasn't his first choice of activities for the evening, or any evening, but he was going to give it a try and this was...well, the guy was at least physically attractive even if he was a complete and total asshole who didn't know how to treat Kurt like he deserved. On a purely physical level, he could do this. Maybe. He hoped.  
  
He would try, at least.  
  
Kurt turned to Puck and curled his fingers around the back of the mohawk, pulling Puck's mouth to his. He had a much better idea of what Puck liked if only because he'd had more opportunity to observe and experiment, and he leaned in to flick his tongue over a sensitive spot on Puck's neck as he whispered, "He has a great mouth, with this intense oral fixation - I'd love to watch him suck you..."  
  
Right, Puck thought. Because what he really wanted out of the evening was the sight of a curly mop of hair bobbing between his legs while Kurt watched from way too far away. He quirked an unimpressed eyebrow.  
  
...But a mouth was a mouth. Not like he hadn't gotten sucked off by moms he wasn't super into before - there were a few who totally weren't hot but who tipped him so much extra that he didn't mind, at least not if they were any good. Besides, he'd figured out that what made Kurt - even when he was completely inexperienced - better than your average MILF was how into it he got. If Blaine was like that, and Kurt made it sound like he might be? That might not suck.  
  
He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, with his legs splayed open and a look that said 'well, get over here if you want.'   
  
Kurt shot Blaine an encouraging look and knelt on the bed beside Puck to get a good view. This could absolutely work. He opened the box of condoms, tore off a packet, and passed it to Blaine, who carefully ripped open the foil wrapper and rolled the condom onto Puck's hardon, licking his lips subconsciously. Excellent, Kurt concluded, seeing the vaguely intrigued look Puck had as he watched.  
  
Puck had to give Blaine one thing - the boy was enthusiastic as hell. Not as refined in skill as Kurt, he tended to use too much tongue, but the eagerness worked for him. Blaine bobbed once, twice, then suddenly lowered his mouth down the length of Puck's shaft until his nose was buried in the tangled nest of coarse, dark hair. Puck let out a loud groan, eyelids slamming shut as Blaine  _fucking swallowed oh dear god_. He reached down and tangled his fingers in that fucking curly hair, barely restraining himself from forcing the head further down. The suction felt incredible, let alone when combined with the enthusiastic moaning that made his dick feel like it was vibrating...  
  
Okay, he had to admit grudgingly, he could see what Kurt might see in the guy.   
  
Kurt watched, mouth hanging open slightly as a kind of gasping whimper escaped. He could see the hollows of Blaine's cheeks underneath unruly curls, eyes closed blissfully...and Puck's eyes squeezed shut as he groaned and strained, muscles twitching...it was beyond hot. Not wanting to be left out, he leaned in to swipe the flat of his tongue across the nipple ring, almost shivering as he heard an unintelligible growl practically forced from Puck's throat and felt one hand coming to rest on the back of his head. He could get used to this - this in as many configurations as possible.  
  
Puck ground out an "Oh fuck yeah" as he came, and Blaine sucked him through his orgasm until he heard a soft hiss of overstimulation and pulled back, flopping onto his back on the bed.   
  
"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" Kurt asked, eyes wide. Blaine just gave a mysterious smirk, and if Kurt didn't know better he would swear that there had been a secret blowjob initiation into the Warblers or something. Or Blaine had quite the large toy drawer for practice purposes, because - as he knew from experience - it wasn't easy to take Puck and definitely not all at once and absolutely not the first time.   
  
The confident 'I totally know how to please my guy' thing was apparently a bigger turn-on than Kurt had really thought of before, because the smirk made him want to just pounce. It made sense, he supposed, it was the same kind of attitude he kind of got off on with Puck, and it made him want to figure out just what else Blaine could do.  
  
But he had other plans first.  
  
Of all the things he'd seen in the course of his looking at what he modestly referred to as "the options," there were two in particular that his mind kept coming back to. First, a cock in each his ass and his mouth - either guy, either position, he didn't care. The idea of moaning around one while being fucked by the other was incredibly hot. Second, but more entrancing...  
  
Ever since Blaine's highly-approving comments the first (and only) time they'd had sex about how he hoped Kurt was at least a little versatile, Kurt had been mulling it over. He'd never given it much consideration before that. Obviously with Puck there was a very clear line - and he didn't mind that. He didn't have any complaints about being the bottom all the time; he genuinely enjoyed the feeling of Puck inside him, and Puck wasn't one of those jerks who equated it with being the girl or being less than or even being the more passive one where sex was concerned, so there was no reason to voice any displeasure with the arrangement.  
  
But that didn't mean he wasn't a little curious.  
  
He'd seen the kind of gaspingly-wondrous "oh god that's good" look Puck got as he pressed in sometimes, and he'd seen enough videos that made the idea look tantalizingly good. And something about the way Blaine looked at him, like his fantasies for the past week had been filled with thoughts of what Kurt might do with his dick...  
  
When he'd done his research early on in the process - okay, fine: when he'd attempted to read up on closed-v triads and ended up being distracted by porn and the possibilities that laid therein - he'd been kind of fascinated by the middle guy in the chain. It seemed like that had to be the best of all possible worlds.   
  
He seriously doubted anyone would object to his suggestion.   
  
Drawing in a nervous breath, he reached over to grab the lube and pour some onto his fingers. He attempted to awkwardly spread it a little using only his index and middle finger, unsure why suddenly it seemed so much more complicated than he'd ever noticed. He moved down on the bed and nudged Blaine's leg's apart. Blaine lifted his head and looked down at him in surprise. "This is okay, right?" Kurt asked. Why did his voice sound so young and worried all of a sudden? Did he really think Blaine was going to turn him down?  
  
"Oh yeah," Blaine replied on a breathy groan. He reached back to grab a pillow, adjusting it under his head so he could look down and watch Kurt between his knees. "Just...go slow, okay? It's been awhile."  
  
Kurt nodded solemnly - he couldn't remember the time he'd needed much prep at all, if he was being totally honest. The thought made him feel vaguely dirty-in-a-bad-way, but he shoved the thought aside. Slowly he ran his index finger down around the base of Blaine's cock, past the full, heavy balls he kind of desperately wanted to explore with his tongue, behind and along the crack until he felt the gathered pucker of skin and pressed his index finger in carefully. Blaine's eyelids fluttered shut as he let out a quiet moan, and Kurt decided he could definitely see the appeal in this. The pressure was fairly tight around his finger as he slowly moved it in an almost conical arc, his erection dribbling precum across his stomach as he watched the pleased looks cross Blaine's features. "Another one?" he checked, and Blaine nodded. He very carefully added his middle finger, pressed tightly against the index, and dear  _god_  that felt tight. It felt like he couldn't imagine anything else fitting in there, and his dick was definitely larger. "How in the world...?" he murmured, staring at the place where he could see his fingers disappearing into Blaine's ass. He wanted to do this - more with every passing second - but there was no way-  
  
Puck's voice in his ear whispered, "Not everyone gets fucked as regularly as you do." He would've sworn he imagined it had he not felt the accompanying warm breath on his neck that made him shiver.   
  
Puck's hand trailed suggestively down Kurt's smooth back. He wasn't sure why he was offering pointers or encouragement; to be honest, watching the entire thing unfold was making him kind of nauseous and definitely not going to lead to getting it back up soon. But the sooner this was done, the sooner he got to be involved again - and at least from this angle he could focus on Kurt's ass instead of...everything else. It was starting to look a little too sausage-y from the other direction, and he wasn't exactly a fan of watching his boyfriend's hand up another guy's ass.  
  
Or anyone's ass, really, but definitely not like this.  
  
Kurt nodded and, pouring more lube over his hand, very slowly added a third finger. Blaine let out a yelp of surprise and Kurt stilled his hand. "Sorry - I should have- are you okay?"  
  
"Give me a sec," Blaine panted; after a moment, he moved himself experimentally on Kurt's fingers, and Kurt gasped softly at the hotness of the simple action. He could practically feel Blaine doing it to his cock already - thrusting down against him, tighter than any hand grip, moaning like he was? At this rate he'd be lucky to get in more than about three strokes before thoroughly embarrassing himself.  
  
And that was before he felt two rough, unlubed fingers pressing against his own entrance. He moaned and shifted forward to give Puck more room to maneuver without breaking his wrist. If this was a foretaste of things to come, then it was going to be the best idea ever - assuming he could keep from coming long enough to enjoy any of it, because he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this hard without anyone actually touching him.   
  
"Should I try a fourth?" Kurt asked, slowly twisting his wrist back and forth to move his fingers inside - god, even that thought was hotter than it should have been, just the word  _inside_  like that. Blaine looked like he was attempting to think, eyes dark, pupils blown, expression bleary, before finally shaking his head. Kurt nodded and withdrew his fingers, staring at the almost pulsating movement of the hole - wide and stretched and trying to clench and soon it would be around- He swallowed hard and reached for the condom, hoping that a lack of sensitivity would actually work to his advantage. He tore one off for himself and passed a second over his shoulder to Puck with a smirk, then drew in a deep breath and tore it open, smoothing it over his aching, dripping cock. He coated it generously with lube, then squeezed the base tightly and tried to think of anything un-sexy With one hot boyfriend spread out in front of him and another's warm breath on his neck as Puck teasingly pressed fingers just barely into his ass, who could think of anything except sex?  
  
"Let me first, then you can start," he instructed Puck, turning over his shoulder. Puck's mouth captured his in a hot, possessive kiss that left him breathless.   
  
"'kay," Puck replied with a smirk at having reminded Kurt of who the sex god around here was.  
  
Drawing in a deep breath to steady his hands and calm his nerves, he placed his left hand on Blaine's hip, using the right to guide himself in. He'd have to stop mocking Puck for the one time he'd been unable to find the hole - it was more difficult than he'd realized, certainly not impossible but it suddenly felt like forever since his fingers had been there and he couldn't quite- He found it without any actual difficulty, but he would finally let Puck live the incident down.   
  
The feeling of the first ring of muscles closing around the base of the mushroom head was incredible - it felt even tighter than it looked, and the sounds Blaine was making...He did his best to keep his movement slow, steady, even, but all he wanted to do was slam his hips forward and tilt his ass up for Puck to do the same to him. When his sack brushed against the curve of Blaine's ass, he let out a shaky breath and met Blaine's gaze. He looked so debauched - not like Puck who always looked like sex. The buttoned-up, always-put-together boy he'd seen for the first two months only in a uniform, almost sprawled in front of him with sex hair and heavy breathing and swollen lips from the blowjob he'd given earlier...Kurt leaned forward, delighting in Blaine's moans as it changed the angle slightly, and gave him a kiss that turned desperate and needy as he felt the thick head of Puck's cock begin to penetrate his own ass. He whimpered against Blaine's lips, allowing the lube-slicked fingers of his right hand to tangle in Blaine's hair.  
  
"No. Sorry. Not gonna work," Puck declared, and Kurt's head jerked up; it was only by virtue of impossibility that the rest of him stayed still - he could imagine that wouldn't have felt too good, moving the wrong way.  
  
"What do you mean, 'not gonna work'?" Kurt demanded. Puck was almost all the way in already.  
  
"I'm not gonna be able to keep it up when you're basically making out with the other guy and I'm practically an afterthought," Puck declared. "No way is this position fair."  
  
Oh was he fucking kidding? Kurt groaned in frustration. He picked now to get annoyed? He hadn't seen Kurt complaining while the other two were involved and he was practically on the sidelines, had he? No. He hadn't. But now, when everyone's dick was already in place and he was about five minutes away from what he suspected would be the most mindblowing orgasm of his short-but-incredibly-full-no-pun-intended sexual life, Puck had to start complaining? About  _fairness_?  
  
Okay, fine, maybe Puck had a point, albeit ill-timed and possibly made entirely out of spite. "So what should we do?" he asked, his tone still irritated.  
  
"I could turn over?" Blaine suggested awkwardly, glancing over Kurt's shoulder at Puck for approval. When Puck gave a sort of 'eh, couldn't hurt' look in response, Blaine nodded.  
  
Puck placed his hands on Kurt's hips, pulling him backwards and out of Blaine to rest back on his lap, never losing the connection. Blaine rolled over and moved up onto his knees, waiting, but as Kurt tried to move forward there was no way to keep Puck in him while adjusting to the angle. Blaine's ass was higher now than it had been, which meant Kurt would need to be up on his knees to get enough leverage instead of lower like he had been, which meant Puck couldn't actually get the right angle because his thighs weren't enough longer than Kurt's to get any kind of forward thrusting motion. Everything in this position would be more like straight up, and while Puck didn't object to that, he had a feeling Kurt might - two directions at once? That just didn't sound like a good idea, especially not if he didn't want to rip the guy's ass so he'd never be able to fuck it again.  
  
No one would win in that case.  
  
Kurt huffed quietly in frustration as he slipped forward, empty. Looking behind him to figure out where Puck was going to go, he suggested, "Let's move back, and Puck if you stand...?" Puck rolled his eyes and slipped off the bed, then stood at the foot. From here it didn't look like the best height - it looked like his thighs were going to be shaking and his knees bent for the foreseeable future, but it was still a better idea than trying to thrust straight up like the other position would have been. Kurt giggled - yes, he freaking giggled - as Blaine moved back too far and almost knocked Kurt off the bed, and Puck found himself again rolling his eyes and wondering why he'd let himself be talked into this.   
  
_Some Kurt is better than none at all. And Brittany's sure as fuck happy with Santana._  
  
Encouraged by both the sentiment and the image that the second sentence brought, he reached out to grasp Kurt's hips and position him. His hand darted forward to graze the top of Kurt's thigh, and he was rewarded with a soft, sudden inhale. He liked that part of sex, knowing exactly what to do to get these kind of quiet, pathetic, 'ohh' sort of sounds pouring out of the normally-composed guy. It was like his own little victory - the guy was all in-control about everything, but the control was no match for the Puckster.  
  
The more he watched Kurt's face, the more he got the distinct impression Kurt was having that response with Blaine. Puck wasn't' sure if that made the whole thing more or less creepy. He could get the comparison, he just didn't want to think that much about it.  
  
Puck went first this time, grasping Kurt's hips firmly and pressing forward. He rested his forehead on Kurt's pale shoulder, a low growl escaping as Kurt clenched playfully around him. Fucking hell. Guy had discovered what sensations like that felt like and was deciding to exploit them? He learned even faster than Puck had given him credit for, and that was saying a lot.  
  
Kurt stroked his hands slowly down Blaine's lower back, hips, thighs, and carefully pressed two fingers back in as if to check that Blaine was still ready for him; finding him sufficiently prepared, he moved forward slowly, trying to not get away from Puck, gasping as he felt first the outer ring, then the inner ring, give way to the head of his cock. Blaine was moaning pretty continuously, pressing back to try to get Kurt back in him fully. They reached position, two out of three erections fully sheathed and the third bobbing heavily below Blaine's stomach, and paused.  
  
This had to be the best feeling ever, Kurt concluded. His dick held tightly in Blaine, his own ass full of Puck - he could feel them both breathing, every twitch of their muscles, every quiver of movement. He could only imagine once they started  _moving_.  
  
In this case, however, his imagination turned out to be much preferable to reality.  
  
That was another thing porn lied about. The whole 'finding rhythm' thing wasn't nearly as easy as they made it look like. In fact, he was starting to be convinced that even amateur and home-shot sites had to be doing multiple takes because there was no way that they could all thrust in time that well without practice.  
  
It was something he barely had to think about with Puck (and hadn't spent much time contemplating with Blaine as there was so much they hadn't done); thrusts sped up and slowed down and people shifted and moved and as long as it felt good it worked fine. Occasionally he would start to shift in a way that brought Puck into him at a less-than-pleasant angle and he shifted back, or figured out some other position, but it wasn't something that needed choreographed, it was far more...organic.  
  
The addition of a third person made that impossible. Blaine was rocking on his shoulders and knees, practically fucking himself back and forth in a way that would have been best described as 'omgsofuckinghot' were it not for the fact that, at the same time, Puck was thrusting very purposefully at a completely different pace. Kurt, meanwhile, was jostling back and forth between the two of them, half the time squashed awkwardly between them, half the time feeling like if he moved half an inch he'd be separated from both of them.  
  
"Stop," he commanded firmly, and both stilled.  
  
"What's wrong?" Blaine panted, reaching back awkwardly to squeeze his leaking dick.  
  
"Too hard or something?" Puck asked.  
  
"You two. Stay still." His tone of voice left no room for argument, but apparently it did leave room for confusion.  
  
"What do you mean?" Puck asked, quirking an eyebrow. Never in his long sexual history had he been told to hold still - what was the fun in that.  
  
"There cannot be two separate rhythms going on. So both of you are going to stay still and in one place while I move. Got it?"  
  
Blaine groaned some kind of assent. Puck wasn't so sure but realized he probably wasn't in much of a position to complain.  
  
"Good," Kurt replied, breathing a little heavily. He adjusted his position slightly, then began to slowly thrust back and forth, almost experimentally fucking himself between the two of them. Oh god -  _that_  was more like it. The simultaneous sliding motion that meant when he was buried all the way in Blaine just the head of Puck's dick was left in him, and when he slammed back he was filled but only an inch or two of him was in Blaine's ass created all kinds of fantastic, amazing tension in the pit of his stomach.  
  
As much as Puck wasn't a huge fan of the whole thing, he couldn't deny that the sight of Kurt fucking himself back onto his cock was hot. Like riding but somehow hornier, more desperate - less like he was trying to be the one in charge, more like he was too hot and horny to wait for Puck to do the thrusting. He reached up to hold Kurt's torso in place, leaning in to suck on a sensitive part of his shoulder. Kurt almost howled at the sensation, quickening the movement of his hips. He came first, and Puck took over thrusting as Blaine fisted his cock, shooting long ropes of cum over the sheets with a throaty "uh uh uh" sound that - Puck had to admit - was kind of hotter than he expected. He held Kurt's hips as he jerked his hips forward once more, twice, then came for the second time of the evening.  
  
Somehow they ended up on the bed in a clumsy, tangled mess of clammy bare limbs, on a wet spot that seemed the size of Lake Tahoe. Condoms were disposed of...and then the silence set in. The awkward, uncertain silence broken only by the sound of heavy post-orgasmic breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets before Puck excused himself to use the shower and Blaine rolled over to pretend to sleep and Kurt was left staring at the ceiling wondering exactly one thing:  
  
Why didn't porn show what to do  _after_  everyone got off?


End file.
